Even Stranger Things
by Kris Quin
Summary: Craig's gang develops an interest in Dungeons and Dragons. The events that unfold following a particularly intense game has South Park banding together to track down a missing Tweek, and attempting to piece together the strange, other-worldly events plaguing the town.


((Author's Note: This fic has been a long time coming. With the events of Splatty Tomato, I was urged to post the first draft. Some dialogue and events are lifted directly from Stranger Things, reimagined for the South Park universe.))

Even Stranger Things

The Vanishing I

The Tuckers' basement had long been taken over by the four of them. Their backpacks and jackets were piled heedlessly on the floor and disused furniture. Somewhere between storage bins filled with old Christmas decorations and a dingy couch the boys used on occasion when a movie night fit the mood better than taking swigs of filched beer at the park, was tucked a stack of boxes of the boys' current obsession: Dungeons and Dragons.

A folding table was in the center of the mostly finished room, piled high with papers and pencils, dice, plastic figures and hard cover game guides. The boys were seated around the table in well-worn folding chairs. Craig was at the head of the table, bathed in the soft yellow incandescence of the single lightbulb illuminating their current game. He had a folder of sorts propped in front of him. Inside it was scribbled copious notes that had been compiled over the course of the last several weeks - a culmination of each of their ideas, streamlined into a drawn out story that they were almost done working through.

Clyde and Token sat across from one another to Craig's right and left. Clyde had insisted on playing a barbarian class, which he'd decked out with a hefty axe and plenty of smaller weapons. He'd attempted - albeit poorly - to make his character useful in all gaming situations, and the rest of them constantly begged him to focus on combat. Token was a bit better at balancing his character. He was a wizard and had come to everyone's rescue more times than anyone could count by keeping close tabs on his magic inventory.

Tweek, who sat across from Craig, was their rogue. His quiet fidgeting suited his character well - perhaps a bit too careful, the rogue had foiled Craig's plans at catching the group off guard with traps and shady non-player characters.

The fifteen year olds were staring intently at Craig as he leaned back in his chair, grinning.

"Something's coming," Craig said smugly. "Coming for blood. A shadow grows on the wall behind you, swallowing you in darkness."

"What is it?" Tweek squeaked. His eyes were wide as he leaned forward, worrying his lip.

Clyde groaned loudly. "Oh, Jesus. It's a Demogorgon. We're so screwed if it's the Demogorgon."

"It's not the Demogorgon," Token hissed, casting Clyde a disdainful glare.

Craig pushed a collection of figures from behind his screen and onto the dungeon map. "An army of troglodytes charge into the chamber," he said with a laugh.

"Troglodytes?" Clyde asked, his tone betraying his disappointment.

Token laughed and shook his head. "Told ya."

Tweek chuckled with the rest of them and readied his character for combat, but Craig interrupted the attempted attack on the smaller enemies.

"Did you hear that?" he asked, looking around the room. "That… That sound…"

The group fell silent. The three boys glanced between themselves in nervous tension.

"Boom… Boom…" Craig started quietly. He continued repeating the onomatopoeia as he raised his voice louder, eventually slamming his hands down on the table with a final _BOOM_ that made everyone flinch in surprise.

"That didn't come from the troglodytes," Craig said coyly. "No, that came from something else."

Tweek sucked down a breath and studied the map before him, clearly the most freaked out by the intensive charade, while Token and Clyde eyed each other warily.

"The Demogorgon!" Craig roared as he slammed a figure down in the middle of the dungeon map. A collective groan ran through the three players.

"We're in deep shit," Clyde said quickly.

"Tweek, your action," Craig egged on, staring intently across the table.

"I don't know," Tweek murmured. He couldn't take his eyes off the grotesque figurine that he was about to face.

Token craned his neck to catch Tweek's eye. "Fireball him," he suggested insistently.

Tweek almost laughed at the order. "I'd have to r-roll a fifteen or higher!"

"That's too risky," Clyde shot off. "Cast a protection spell."

"Don't be a pussy. Fireball him!" Token continued.

"Dude. Protection spell."

"The Demogorgon is tired of your silly human bickering," Craig said loudly. "It stomps toward you. Boom!"

"Fireball him!" Token repeated.

Tweek shrunk in his seat at the yelling that had erupted at the table as he tried to make up his mind.

"Another stomp. Boom!"

"Cast protection!" Clyde howled.

"This is too much p-pressure. I can't…"

"It roars in anger!"

He gave up looking to Clyde and Token for help and reached for his dice with shaking fingers. "Fireball!" Tweek yelled as he threw the dice toward the Demogorgon with more intensity than he'd meant. The dice scattered and flew off the corner of the table.

Token was the first on his feet. "Where'd it go?" he asked frantically.

The rest of them jumped out of their chairs to search for the lost dice, eager to see what the roll revealed. "Where are they?"

"I don't know!" Tweek moaned as he got to his knees to search under the table.

"Is it a fifteen?" Clyde demanded. He skirted the table toward Craig to scan the carpet.

"I don't know!" Tweek howled again.

Craig and Tweek's eyes met briefly in their search under the table. Craig smiled - they were all so vested in the storyline - and Tweek rolled his lip uneasily between his teeth as he ran his hands over the carpet to feel his way to the dice. Clyde had started to pace near the stairs, unable to concentrate as he gripped the sides of his head, _oh my God oh my God ohmyGod_ a crescendoing chant while Token rooted around the rest of the room in earnest.

"Craig?" Mrs. Tucker called from upstairs.

"Did you find it yet?" Token asked hurriedly.

"Craig!"

"N-No, I can't find it," Tweek whined.

The sound of the basement door opening drew the boys' attention away from their hunt. "Craig Tucker!"

Craig looked up from the base of the stairs. The spell of the game had been broken and the boys realized the extent of their frantic search - their chairs were scattered about the floor haphazardly amidst their jostled backpacks. Craig groaned and pounded up the stairs.

"Mom, we're in the middle of a campaign," Craig insisted as he made his way into the kitchen.

His mom looked up from the kitchen counter. "You mean the end? It's almost eleven o'clock."

"Come on. Just twenty more minutes," he pleaded.

"It's a school night," she said with an air of finality, turning to survey Craig, a hand on a popped hip. It looked like she was prepping lunches for everyone. "Ruby just headed to bed. She's got a big test tomorrow. You can finish over the weekend."

Craig groaned and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "It'll ruin the flow."

"Craig."

"I'm serious, mom. This campaign took two weeks to plan. How was I supposed to know it would take eight hours?"

His mom paused, looking up at her son with furrowed brows from her kitchen work. "You've been playing for eight hours?"

Craig huffed and turned toward his dad, who was watching a television program in the living room. "Dad, don't you think that twenty more-"

"I think you should listen to your mother," his dad said absently. He didn't spare Craig a glance.

Craig sighed in annoyance and set off back to the basement. The rest of the group had quieted some.

"Oh! I got it! D-Does this seven count?" Tweek asked quietly.

Token balked. "It was a seven?"

Tweek nodded. Clyde was shrugging into his jacket as Token and Tweek tracked down theirs.

"Did Craig see it?" Token asked.

"No."

"Then it doesn't count," Token announced.

"I heard that," Craig grunted as he rounded the base of the stairs.

Token offered Craig one of his winning smiles. "We'll reroll next time, right?" he asked rhetorically, making his way to the stairs.

"Yo, hey guys," Clyde interrupted. He lifted the discarded pizza box that they'd shared earlier that evening. "Does anyone want this?"

Craig rolled his eyes. Tweek and Token responded with an incredulous _no_ in unison, halfway up the stairs.

"Sweet." Clyde was the last one out of the basement. He paused as he passed Ruby's room - her bedside light was still on and she was stretched out on the bed talking to someone on the phone.

"Hey, Ruby," he greeted with a smile. She glanced up at him with a frown as Clyde brandished the pizza box in her direction. "There's a slice left if you want it. Sausage and pepperoni!"

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Hang on," she said into the phone before setting it on the bed and getting to her feet. Ruby was only their junior by a year - they'd been on friendly terms for a while, but after the onset of puberty, she'd taken to obsessing over her friends and more… popular boys. Clyde got a bedroom door shut in his face for his effort.

He rejoined the other three outside who were chattering excitedly about the next time they'd be able to get together.

"Dude. There's something wrong with your sister," Clyde grumbled. He stuck the pizza slice in his mouth and threw the box away in city bin outside the garage.

Craig cast him a questioning look. "What are you talking about?"

"She's got a huge stick up her ass," Clyde continued, mouth full of food.

Token chuckled. "Yeah, it's because she's been hanging around bitches like Bebe and Wendy," he teased.

"She's turning into a real jerk," Clyde continued.

"She's always been a real jerk," Craig said, clearly exasperated, as the rest of them began to ready their bikes on the porch. A light dusting of snow covered patches of the ground. It was still mid-autumn, not quite cold enough that they would have to retire their bicycles for the season.

"Nuh-uh. She used to be cool. Like when she dressed up like an elf for our Elder tree campaign," Clyde grumbled. He started off down the driveway.

"That was almost two years ago!" Craig called after him.

"Just sayin'!"

Token grinned and shook his head before following off behind Clyde. "Later."

Tweek had hung back on his bike propped next to Craig in the cold evening air. "Hey, Craig? It was a s-seven."

Craig turned to look at him, frowning. "Huh?"

"The roll," he elaborated. "It was really a seven. The Demogorgon got me."

Craig relaxed a little now that they were alone. "Yeah. I heard."

Tweek bit his lower lip and studied Craig's expression. "Can I reroll next time?"

An easy smile broke Craig's usual scowl. "Yeah. That's fine."

Silence fell over the two of them - it was shrouded in boyish weirdness, and eventually, Craig reached out a hesitant hand and set it on Tweek's back. He looked up at Craig from studying the concrete driveway, hazarding a smile through his messy blond hair.

"See you tomorrow?" Tweek asked quietly.

"Yeah." Another smile from Craig.

Tweek didn't leave right away. Their relationship had consisted recently of awkward moments like these, where neither of them had the right words to express what they wanted to say to one another. Craig let his hand fall to rub at Tweek's knuckles, clutched tight to the handlebars of his bike. He pressed a quick kiss to Tweek's cheek.

Tweek looked at the ground after that and let out a soft sigh.

"See you tomorrow," Craig said gently.

After a silent nod of agreement, Tweek set off on his bike, knowing that Craig was watching him until he reached the road. Neither of them had exactly kept their relationship under wraps since Tweek's little freakout at school, but it was easier all around to keep it slow-paced, at least in the public eye. Both of them harbored a certain disdain for being the center of attention.

Craig let out one last sigh before heading back toward his front door. A slight flicker of the porch light made him pause, but he didn't think much of it as he stepped back inside.

It didn't take long for Tweek to catch up with Token and Clyde in the residential street. Token was the first to turn off down a side street.

"G'night, ladies!" he called over his shoulder.

"Kiss your mom goodnight for me!" Clyde yelled after him.

Tweek stifled a little laugh as they continued onward.

"Race back to my place?" Clyde challenged.

"Your loss," Tweek answered as he stood up and started to pedal faster. The cold air started to whip through his messy hair, blowing open the sides of his jacket.

"Hey. Hey! I didn't say go yet!" Clyde howled as he tried to catch up. Tweek maintained his lead as they crested a hill.

"Get back here!"

Tweek risked a glance over his shoulder at Clyde, who had just started his descent as Tweek continued to gain speed toward the bottom of the hill. "Like you c-can catch me!"

Clyde slid to a halt outside of his house, staring after Tweek several street lights ahead of him. "Son of a bitch," he grumbled, kicking at some loose gravel.

Tweek continued pedaling home. He lived a bit farther than the rest of them, closer to the lab that had gone up for construction on the edge of South Park. He was cold but approaching the home stretch to his house. The roads were empty - most of the sleepy mountainside town had retired for the evening.

He was lost in thought for a few moments, speeding through the street beneath trees shedding their leaves and a starry sky, but a strange figure crouched in the middle of the street up ahead drew him out of his thoughts. Tweek continued toward it, not giving it much thought aside from whether it might be some nocturnal animal of some sort, but when the creature got to its feet, Tweek startled.

A sharp inhale of breath came, followed by Tweek veering to the side of the road in terror. He hit a fallen branch which caused him to tumble headfirst into the ditch that ran the length of the street. The bike went out from under him. Tweek tried to steady his breathing, his heart racing, and gingerly got his knees under him. He didn't think anything was damaged beyond repair from the impact - a quick glance toward his bike told him that his hunch was right. Tweek didn't reach for the bicycle right away and instead risked a glance back toward the street, hoping that he was just tired and that his eyes were playing tricks on him.

Some movement caught his eye.

Tweek froze perhaps a half-second too long, then tried to fumble with his jacket pockets for his cellphone. He couldn't locate it immediately, and some shifting in the brush closest to the road forced Tweek to his feet. There wasn't enough time to right his bike. He took off running in the opposite direction of whatever had ran him off the road, attempting to keep his bearings about himself as he cut through the edge of a neighbor's property toward home.

Anxious and breathless, he made it to his front door and slipped inside. Tweek wasted no time deadbolting the door behind him.

"Mom?" he called, heading down the hallway to the living room. The house was dark.

It appeared that he was alone. Tweek picked up his pace peering from room to room. "Mom? Dad?"

No answer.

Tweek looped back to the living room and peeled the blinds aside to look outside. Hands cupped against cold window pane, he took in his front yard. He didn't see anything. The hot breath still laboredly pouring from his mouth fogged up the window and Tweek wiped it away quickly with the sleeve of his jacket before peering back out again. He saw it.

He recoiled from the window with a gasp. His shoe caught on the edge of a rug and Tweek landed on his back, but the brief glance at the ceiling didn't erase the image of the tall, vaguely humanoid, but incredibly alien creature that was seared into his brain. Tweek scrambled to his feet for the second time and retreated toward the end table toward the house phone.

It nearly fell to the floor in Tweek's trembling hands as he wrestled the phone out of the cradle. He frantically dialed for the police, but the line gave him nothing but static.

"Hello?" Tweek wailed. "Hello!"

He got nothing but garbled static and a strangled growl as feedback.

Fighting back tears, Tweek tried dialing a second time, then a third. A noise from the porch had Tweek peeking around the corner of the living room to the front door, phone still clutched desperately to his ear. A shadow fell across the glass pane at the top of his door.

"Hello?!"

The deadbolt on the front door slowly began to turn. Tweek jerked backward and the phone clattered to the ground as Tweek took off further into the house. The only thing on his mind was locating the bebe gun that his dad had gotten him a few Christmases ago, when Tweek had been told to _be more of a man_. Tears prickled in the corners of his eyes - his dad had since given up on that idea.

A quick sweep of the office reminded Tweek that the airsoft rifle was probably still stuffed away in the garage. That meant passing through the front hallway near the door, but it was his only hope. Tweek sucked down a steadying breath and rushed down the hall again.

With the door shut tightly behind him, he began shoving aside tools adorning the workbench with trembling hands. He located the bebe gun in the poorly lit room and started to load the cartridge, out of breath and panicking, and it felt like forever before he hoisted the weapon to his shoulder. Tweek pointed it at the garage door sucking down gulps of air, trying to steady his aim.

Tweek couldn't hear anything past the beating of his own heart in his ears. Whatever had followed him home had seemed to move on though, because he didn't hear anything for a long while. He took a hesitant step forward. A gurgling croak drew his attention a few feet to his right and Tweek whirled around to meet it, but the sight alone had his airsoft rifle clattering to the concrete floor.

The creature, whatever it was, drew itself up. Tweek was struck that the garage seemed dazzlingly bright at that moment, but little reflection came off the creature's skin. The same purling, wet crackle filled his ears from the feedback on the phone. He brought his eyes up the glistening black flesh to where its face was supposed to be.

Blank and dark, despite the glaring brightness.


End file.
